


Unlock the Door

by fragilevixen



Series: A Little Loaded [1]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst, Banter, Drunk Confession, Drunk Discussion, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Post-Episode: s10 e7 Wildlife, RST, UST, canon-divergent, drunk banter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:34:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29056773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragilevixen/pseuds/fragilevixen
Summary: Olivia returns home from a celebratory series of shots with Kim Greylek and lets Elliot Stabler hear a little more than she ever intended to in the aftermath.“First you take a drink, then the drink takes a drink, then the drink takes you.” F. Scott Fitzgerald
Relationships: Olivia Benson & Elliot Stabler, Olivia Benson/Elliot Stabler
Series: A Little Loaded [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2135202
Comments: 9
Kudos: 15





	Unlock the Door

**Author's Note:**

> There are little pieces of canon that do not exist. A marriage ended because Elliot Stabler is not a cheater and it is gross to think he would. Eli doesn’t exist. However, this is, roughly, during season 10 (Enough time for Elliot to recover from the shooting in Wildlife) so think accordingly on the timeframe. If Liv seems OOC, try to think beyond the scope of what we saw on the show. We never actually saw her drunk...and this is exactly how I’d imagine she’d act. This is blamed on and dedicated to my SVU writers group. You know who you are and I’m begrudgingly staring at you.

_That’s what I do_

_I drink_

_And I know things_

-Game of Thrones

Saturday, December 13, 2008, 1:15 AM

Olivia Benson’s Apartment

New York, NY

Drinking wasn’t something that Olivia often indulged in nor did she allow the typical reservations to pass as a dare was issued in her direction. Normally, she had better self-control. On any other night, Olivia couldn’t help but think of the fate of her mother and push the drink away. Not tonight, though. Kim Greylek was an acquired taste, had the right combination of irritant and compulsion as she thrust the amber liquid into her face, said _live a little_ as though it were something she hadn’t been doing. She took it as an occasion to rise to and had to giggle and stumble her way to the cab alongside her pink-faced ADA companion, who was reluctant to leave eye candy at the bar.

Olivia Benson had successfully drunk a little too much and cock blocked Kim from a particularly flirtatious piece of ass in the same night.

Some victories, however small, were worth the double vision and frustration as she fought with the lock and nearly tumbled into the dark apartment.

“Shit!” Olivia grasped the wall and kicked the door shut after fighting them free from the handle, haphazardly locking it while sliding out of her heels. “Fuck being a woman and killing yourself in these just to enjoy a drink…why am I talking to myself?”

Lightweight. It was one of those curses that she had been addled with despite being the spawn of an alcoholic. Teeter at the edge of too much for the right amount of time and go careening over the cliff into the abyss with just another sip. Olivia thought she had learned her lesson in college where to draw the line but she was so wrong as the tequila was messing with mental processes and cognitive function as she meandered down the hall, discarding her coat, purse, and gloves in the process.

She was desperate to disrobe.

Naked.

Freedom.

Illuminating.

The phone ringing in her pocket, however, stopped her from progress as she reached for the button on her pants, flicking it from the loop.

“You’re calling me kind of late, aren’t you?” Olivia’s voice was unintentionally husky as she held the phone to her ear, the drunk smirk forming in an instant as his breath was audible on the line.

“I’m your partner, Liv,” Elliot’s voice, while low, was dipping into exhaustion after a muffled yawn had left his mouth in her ear. “I’m supposed to check on you when you’ve been out drinking with the ADA.”

“Oh, well, um,” Olivia searched for the words and continued with the task at hand, tugging at the uncooperative zipper until the groans were coming out in short bursts. “Fuck this goddamn zipper!”

Elliot’s chuckle sent a shiver down her spine and petrified her in the same breath as he inhaled a breath, questioning her. “Come again?”

“Did I just shout that? It wasn't a thought I kept in my head?” Olivia’s tongue slid against the inside of her cheek as embarrassment collided with frustration, intensifying the intoxication level as she resisted gravity’s pull on her two left feet. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey…quit rockin’ the boat.”

“Yes, yes you did,” Elliot wasn’t laughing anymore but there was curiosity in his voice even as she peered into the mirror, hoping to utilize it while yanking on the zipper. “Must’ve been a good night, then? Sorry I couldn’t make it. Cragen had me working on paperwork until an hour ago.”

“It was okay, but I had to watch Kim flirting with some guy at the bar. For future reference, when she says that another shot won’t hurt, it will,” Olivia huffed and sighed, growling as the zipper didn’t move from its spot at the top, near the button. “Jesus, this fucking zipper is stuck and I really just want these fucking pants _off_!”

“That was enthusiastic,” Elliot’s voice hummed against her cheek and wheedled an unintentional moan in the process. “So, you’re saying Greylek’s a bit of a bad influence?”

“I wouldn’t say that but I’m going to get the daggers for keeping her from getting action tonight,” Olivia licked her lips, feverishly trying to cope with all of her unrestrained mechanisms as she whined over the excess pressure around her waistline from being incapable of removing her jeans. “I know and I’m sorry but I drank just enough to see double and my clothes are claustrophobic right n—”

“Liv, Liv, hey, Liv!” Elliot cut her off, raising his voice just enough to make her bite down on her lip as she stood moderately still and swayed in the doorway to the bedroom.

“What?” Olivia was sheepish and meek as she raked her teeth across the swell of her bottom lip and smothered another vocalization. “Elliot?”

Elliot’s voice dropped an octave and sent a shiver down her spine, almost taking out her knees in the process. “Unlock the door.”

“Wait,” Olivia blinked, splayed her fingers across the wall, and stared toward the front door, the light above it casting down at the brass handle. “Why?”

“Because I could hear you from down the hall,” Elliot held back a laugh as his shadow blocked the exterior light, hinting at his form in the gaps under the front door. “You’re louder than you think you are tonight.”

“Oh, sure, you skip out on the actual drinking but will show up for the spoils?” Olivia wanted to run, not walk, to let him in but the eager urge was enough to make her resist as she dragged her palm across the painted finish and nearly knocked over a lamp as she moved forward. “Suck my dick, Elliot Stabler.”

“Please, you don’t have a dick, Olivia,” Elliot’s voice was echoing in the phone and from out in the hallway, his amusement evident as he chuckled for a moment and tapped his fingertips on the door. “…come on, open it.”

“How would you know?” Olivia clicked the phone off, stomped a little wobbly in the direction of the door, discarding the phone on the nearby bar before unlocking the door to meet him face-to-face as she swung the barrier wide and let it smack against the stop. “I have sufficiently scared off every man that has ever seen me naked. It might be a dick that does it.”

“You had to wait until the door was open to finish that statement, didn’t you?” Elliot’s boyish grin was plastered, almost with permanence, as he followed her inside, reclosing the door as he passed the threshold. “You are the strangest self-deprecator when you’re drunk.”

“Wipe that smile off your face,” Olivia pressed her fingers to his cheeks, pushing until his mouth almost opened wide enough to see his teeth as she comfortably rubbed against him with no regard to his bubble. “…holy hell, you’re really warm. Inferno warm. How can you stand that without working up a sweat?”

“Wow, what did Kim con you into drinking?” Elliot couldn’t help but watch the curve of her backside as she spun around and kicked the shoes in the middle of the floor out of the way as she tiptoed back toward the bedroom. “Have you hydrated?”

“Tequila,” Olivia overenunciated and giggled as she leaned against the door, tripping over her foot as the gracelessness started to kick in. “The floor is a little, wiggly, and I am…drunk.”

“I’m gonna get you a glass of water,” Elliot somehow knew that his night was barely getting started as Olivia’s laughter became muddled with frustrated, incoherent grunts as the squeak of a spring signaled her weight on the bed. “Are you okay in there?”

“Just trying to get out of these again. You know, the task you interrupted so rudely,” Olivia was flat on her back, her legs dangling to the floor, wrenching on the zipper as though it owed her money but it wouldn’t budge. “I have a bad feeling it’s caught on my underwear.”

Elliot gulped and blinked as he held a plastic cup in his hands, filled to the brim with cold water, the sensory overload triggering an impulse as his nerves cried out, betraying his calm, confident exterior. “Would you just—relax? You’re pulling it up, not down.”

Olivia made a ‘pfft’ sound and continued to fight the zipper mechanism, staring up at him more like a petulant child and less like the capable, grown woman she was. “I’ve been dressing and undressing myself for a long time. I think I’d know if I were pulling up instead of down.”

“You sound like both of the twins when they were learning how to dress themselves, now knock it off,” Elliot set the cup on the nightstand and moved her hand away, easily gliding the zipper down until he coaxed a relieved sigh from her lips. “See? Easy.”

“Am I pissing you off, El?” Olivia sat up and snared him by his tie, keeping him at the space between her knees while a brow elevated, her voice dropping an octave as she wrapped the silky material around her hand. “Or can you ignore my bad behavior tonight?”

“That was almost a lyric to a Barenaked Ladies song,” Elliot was doing everything that he could to distract her from being serious as he pulled his tie free from her grasp, replacing it with the pajamas she had already pulled from the dresser. “Would you please ignore that you, found me on the floor, trying on your camisole?”

“Did I just hear that right?” Olivia frowned at the clothes in her hand as she worked up the energy to get back to her feet, elevating her brows as she held onto the edge of the dresser to wriggle out of the jeans without a care that he was still in the room. “…you want to put on my clothes?”

Elliot spun at the fleeting image of black silk and lace clinging to her hips and upper thigh, chewing on his lip as he restored modesty while she changed into the pajama bottoms behind him. “That metaphor went right over your head and it was just song lyrics, Liv.”

“I thought you were trying to get me out of my pants but not because you were interested in wearing them yourself,” Olivia hooked her index finger around one of his belt loops and gave him a generous tug, causing him to bump against her after she’d tossed her shirt into the nearby hamper. “Correct me if I’m wrong?”

“Lord, you need to drink some of that water,” Elliot didn’t need to see her to know how far she was pushing the envelope as he could feel her breath against his neck and smell the faintest reminder of the tequila on her. “Put your top on.”

“El,” Olivia let it drag and was far too close to his ear as she did it, the more ragged notes in her voice hitting at the wrong time as he closed his eyes.

“Oh, come on, Liv, don’t say my name like that when I’m trying to be helpful and not a damn pervert,” Elliot regained his composure and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he took a step forward to evade the heat pulsing off of her. “Please, put your shirt on.”

“You were just fine with it when it had the potential to save you,” Olivia was not keen on the idea of covering up as a light, barely visible layer of sweat was forming along her brow while her body temp steadily climbed. “What’s so bad about it right now?”

“Actually, you showing up is what got me shot but we’re not comparing apples to oranges,” Elliot tried to gently encourage her head into the shirt, her giggles muted by the thin material of the top. “Plus, you’re drunk and I don’t want to play.”

“What if I want to play?” Olivia’s throaty pitch would’ve hit every corresponding key for Elliot and she knew it but the intoxication was making him pull back, instinctively creating a barrier between them. “Oh, did you want me to say are you ready for me Da—”

Elliot groaned, lightly pressed his fingers to her lips, and shook his head, putting a reasonable amount of emphasis on his resistance as his cheeks turned a deep shade of pink. “Don’t you dare.”

Olivia comfortably slipped into the shirt, ruffling her already mussed hair as she gazed at him with those sleepy, aloof, mahogany eyes and a crooked smile on her lips. “What if I do it anyway? What will happen?”

“Come on, Liv,” Elliot reached for the water and held it between them, offering it to her as though it would be a great diversion from her enduring stare and probing, delicate fingers that were tugging at his buttons. “Hydrate. You need to hydrate. You had tequila and you know what it’ll do if you don’t get a little agua in you.”

Olivia’s bottom lip jutted out and the unbalanced side-stepping manifested as she moved past him, trodding off to the bathroom after refusing the water for the second time. “I’ll hydrate when I’m ready to hydrate.”

Elliot tilted his head back as the door tapped closed and the water began to run. He was hoping, silently, that the amount of alcohol coursing through her bloodstream hadn’t begun to turn the tide, seeking revenge on the rest of her. Holding back Olivia’s hair while the tequila made a quick exit had entered his thoughts the first time he heard her slurring but he didn’t want that for her. Not tonight, not in relation to the bitterest recollections of her mother’s downward spirals. She didn’t need to compare a lapse in judgment to that.

“You doin’ okay in there?” Elliot cocked his head to the side at the distinctive sound of a thud followed by a raspy growl that captured his attention as he cleared the clutter off of her bed and pulled the sheets back.

“Wastebasket jumped out in the middle of the floor to attack my toe,” Olivia was between laughter and frustration as the water was running, the undeniable splashing sound of her fingers beneath the stream just below the tone of her voice before the door opened. “…hi.”

“Hi,” Elliot couldn’t help but grin at Olivia’s flushed face while she tied the drawstring on her pajama bottoms, the sideways smirk still on her lips as she meandered toward him. “How about that water then you can crawl under these nice, fluffy covers to get some rest?”

“I’m not ready to go to bed,” Olivia snaked her fingers around the center of his tie and gave him a healthy tug in her direction while the other hand found the slack of his belt, generously pulling on it until he was right up against her. “I have a few other things in mind for you, though.”

“Liv, no,” Elliot couldn’t even get the words out before she had his tie completely off and the first button undone, his tone just barely reaching stern as he wrangled them at her waist. “Come on, don’t do this…”

“Fuck, Elliot!” Olivia hadn’t let the dejection burst free but it came out as she squirmed out of his grasp and backed away, confusion and hurt working her emotions over as she bit down on her lip. “Why won’t you touch _me_? Do I have to tell you to do it? What’s it going to take?”

“Ah, no, Liv, it isn’t like that,” Elliot’s guilt was already teeming despite the irrefutable urge he had to succumb to every little one of Olivia’s whims but, as he searched her eyes, he had to reel her back in, gently. “I don’t want to touch you while you’re this fucking drunk. I don’t want to be the next morning regret and you really couldn’t consent to this. That’s not what I want from you.”

“Oh,” Olivia wanted to be angry but she was fixated on wrapping her mind around the confession as though it meant everything even though it should have been more than obvious “…but you _do_ want to touch me? I wouldn’t have to ask or tell you?”

“Jesus, fuck, Liv, yeah, I do…I have, for too long,” Elliot was trying to coax her into the bed with a gentle touch to her back while setting the cup down, his attention on taking care of her instead of being parental with her stubborn nature. “Just not while you’re pawing at me like a sorority girl during rush week after she’s just won a game of beer pong.”

“You know, I was a college student once, Elliot,” Olivia plopped onto the mattress and wiggled her brows at him as she leaned against the headboard, obliterating the pillow beneath her backside in the process while glancing at the cup on the nightstand. “If you think this is bad…you should’ve known me back then. I definitely was a spiked punch kind of girl from time to time. Rebellion had its perks on an occasion.”

“I do not doubt any of that,” Elliot was doing his best to keep her in the bed as she slid to the edge of the mattress and stood back up to drape his tie over one of his shoulders while her eyelashes fanned at him. “Get in bed, Benson. You were halfway there already.”

“So stern,” Olivia curled her index down the buttons of his shirt, lingering longer than she should have as she felt his abs tighten under her touch while the involuntary response of licking her lips kicked in. “You first…I promise I’ll be good. Keep my hands to myself.”

“As tempting as all of that sounds, you’re already failing miserably,” Elliot began backing away, moving in the direction of the door even though he would’ve rather let her have her way without a second thought. “I think it’s safer if I sleep on the couch—if you need me, you know where I am.”

Olivia could’ve handled rejection from anyone else but not Elliot. It was sobering. Part of her already felt a twitch of loss as his tie passed back into her hands and reminded her of what she wanted, what she craved. He might’ve been right about not leaping while she was still inebriated but the insecure part of her, the part that her mother once scorned, was screaming that it was more than that. Olivia couldn’t help but think that Elliot didn’t really want to be there.

She was just hammered enough, though, to not have full control of the words that were swirling through her. 

“Elliot, please,” Olivia’s tone had changed and there was a subdued, almost restrained, volume behind it as she fidgeted with the satin material between her fingers. “I don’t want to sleep alone. It isn’t loaded to want you next to me, is it?”

Elliot didn’t speak. There was uncertainty in his slow head tilt, contemplating every move as he turned with a methodical aim. Olivia wasn’t sure what to make of it as he disappeared into the hall, the taps of his shoes against the woodgrain like a foreboding echo forward. The hallway light flickered to darkness and the pattern of soles against the floor became muted, bordering on silent. Olivia swallowed hard and sank, crushing the mattress beneath her as she relented, finally reaching for the glass of water.

Olivia’s sigh was loud even as she tilted it to her lips, unaware that Elliot’s footsteps led back to the bedroom.

Back to where felt compelled to be.

Back to her.

“You may be fine with running up the electric bill and leaving the door unlocked for your neighbors to enter at any time but I’m not,” Elliot’s voice nearly made her choke on the second swallow of water as he gestured to the lamp at her bedside, snapping his fingers as she put the glass down while wiping a streak of water off of her mouth. “Turn that one on and I’ll turn the other off.”

“Concerned about my finances and safety? You’re quite a guy, Elliot Stabler,” Olivia’s eyebrow darted up, aiming toward the ceiling as she flicked the significantly dimmer light on just as Elliot turned the overhead light off and circled her bed to tug back the rest of the covers. “I thought it was going to be safer for you on the couch?”

Elliot unbuttoned his linen shirt, before untucking the undershirt beneath it as he sat down on the far side of her bed, the view of her window in front of him as he fluffed the pillow beside his arm. “You can hold your own but it doesn’t mean I won’t look out for you. I could still go sleep on the couch if you’d rather that I sleep out there?”

“No, stay,” Olivia scooted across the mattress and shoved both feet underneath the sheets as a certain amount of girlishness passed over her face while he turned to look at her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” Elliot pulled the stiff linen away from his arms and tossed it across the room, giving little care for where it landed while he propped himself against the pillow to continue gazing at her with a half-smile and bedroom eyes. “Did you get enough of that water or do you need more?”

“I’m good, it’s behind me if I need any of it,” Olivia had a hidden grin of her own as she stayed partially upright, leaning against the headboard while dragging the blankets up toward her chest. “Like you’ve never looked at me before when you see me every single day…”

“I’ve never gotten into bed with you and I’m going to look at you with a slightly different expression because this is not typical. This is not the every day,” Elliot instinctively reached to wipe an errant eyelash from her cheek, stroking the still flushed skin as the liquor continued to swim through her veins, watching the glimmer in her eyes as she blinked slowly. “You look like you’re about to fall asleep on me.”

“That might be a reasonable assumption,” Olivia’s buzz was wearing thin and her body was succumbing to the creeping sensation of a need to sleep as she settled against the pillow, sighing toward the ceiling while tearing her eyes away from his. “What do you really want from me, Elliot? Don’t lie to me. I’ll know if you lie. You twitch when you lie.”

“Tonight? Nothing more than this,” Elliot found her palm and squeezed her fingers as he fluffed the pillow under his head for a second time, reducing the incline beneath his head as he kept eye contact with her. “I don’t know what tomorrow will be like but I’m leaving that in your court. If you wake up and drunk actions were not the product of sober thoughts then we have nothing more to discuss.”

“What if they are?” Olivia reached back to flick the light off, leaving the modest glow from the moon and the clock to barely illuminate them as she scooted closer and grazed the exposed skin of his arm, awakening a trail of gooseflesh in the process. “What happens if everything I’ve said tonight is just proven to be the truth?”

“I thought you were keeping your hands to yourself, Liv?” Elliot chuckled as her palm gathered at his abs, smoothing over his warmth beneath his shirt. “You tell me—what will it mean?”

“Well, I tried for a few minutes but you’re warm and my hands are cold,” Olivia laughed and encouraged him closer until he was right up against her, arms around her and the blankets enveloping them both to keep in the heat. “It means that you might wake up next to discarded pajamas and an open invite to a steaming, hot shower.”

Elliot laid a kiss along her temple and felt another sigh ripple through her as held on, smiling toward the ceiling. “I suppose you’d better go to sleep, then, huh?”

Elliot hadn’t noticed that Olivia was already more than halfway there as her limbs finally gave in his arms. He listened to the quiet murmur of her breathing against the crook of his neck and pondered the involuntary muscle movement that made her toes slide along his leg and her fingers dig into his side. There was something melodic in it and lulling at the same time as he glided his thumb up and down her arm, soothing away the last of the resistance as another sigh resonated against his neck. His name left her lips in a wisp of a vocalization as he tilted his head to catch a glimpse as sleep finally won. Serenity mixed with elation and he held her a little tighter while adjusting the blankets around them, stealing another moment as his digits tucked her hair behind her ear. On any other night, on any other day, he’d be alone in his own bed, staring at the ceiling until the battle for rest was a white flag in the air.

Tonight, though, was the collective of waiting, hiding, biding ones time until time was very nearly fleeting through both of their fingers.

Every grain of sand that had fallen from the hourglass had landed, etched a path, and became illuminated in the dark as a starless sky was lit by a glowing, rounded moon shrouded by the lightest fog.

Elliot laced his fingers with hers and brought the top of her hand to his lips, placing another kiss to the curve of her knuckles, his lashes slowly moving, reluctantly began to give in. “…G’night, Liv.”

**Author's Note:**

> Quotes by:  
> F. Scott Fitzgerald  
> Game of Thrones
> 
> It was not exactly what I was thinking of writing but I hope everyone liked it. Please leave love and let me know what you think! Go easy on me! This was…literally…conceptualized while drunk. I’m not responsible for the banter. Okay, maybe I am, but, it worked.


End file.
